Why Romance Novels Deserve More Respect
Last month, I intended to air all my grievances when it comes to upholding romance genre conventions, but 2,500 words later, I had only scratched the surface of why we need more gatekeeping, not less.
This blog post picks up where the last left off. I hold romance in the highest regard, but it’s clear that not every writer does. So to all the authors out there thinking of trying their hand at this beloved genre, here is my thesis:
If you can’t properly respect romance, you don’t deserve to sell it.
I’m speaking to three categories of writers specifically, all of which I have major beef with when I see them trying to cash-grab by exploiting romance readers.
These categories include:
Author incels: Sexist writers who only see romance as a way to make a quick buck
Puritanical pearl-clutchers: Anyone in the anti-smut brigade who shames open-door romance
Litfic darlings: Elitist literary fiction writers who believe they’re saving the romance genre from itself
The takes only get hotter from here, so let’s dive in.
To author incels: If writing romance is so easy, why aren’t you rich?
I can’t believe I have to spell this out, but I am appalled by how many authors choose to write in a genre they don’t see as legitimate or worthy.
Much of this is due to misogyny. I’ve already discussed how anything enjoyed primarily by women and girls is treated with derision, especially if that thing is commercially successful.
Just frequent any writing subreddit and watch as mouth-breathing basement dwellers share their grand plans of getting rich quick.
They’re usually sci-fi & fantasy fans, and their true dream is following in Brandon Sanderson’s footsteps, which would be a noble goal if they didn’t assume they could fund that dream by selling “smut.”
(Side note: when I refer to romance as smut, I say so lovingly and tongue-in-cheek. It’s not an insult unless you consider it one, like these neckbeards clearly do.)
Just because romance novels aren’t 200,000-word bricks with a character glossary, several invented languages, and a hand-drawn map doesn’t mean they’re easy to write.
Great romance requires an intimate understanding of healthy relationship dynamics, emotional growth, and electric chemistry—and let’s face it: as much as I love Tolkien, he didn’t write The Lord of the Wedding Rings.
Life’s too short to pit genres against each other or write stories you’re not passionate about. If what you really want is to win a Hugo, go spend your time pursuing that instead of writing subpar romances that readers are sure to hate anyway.
To the puritanical pearl-clutchers: grow up
But it’s not just author incels who don’t hold romance in high esteem. Of course, there’s always the anti-smut brigade who sees all romance novels as nothing more than porn.
(As if there’s anything wrong with sex work between consenting adults anyway, but I digress.)
I’m not saying romance novels have to be explicit, and plenty of asexual and demisexual folks enjoy romances of all heat levels. It’s your prerogative if you prefer closed-door romances or books without any spice—you do you, after all.
(That said, “Why Choose” romance fans are my favorite, because we would do everybody 😉)
I will, however, give major side-eye at anyone who writes “clean romance” or “wholesome romance” because they believe expressing your sexuality is inherently dirty or sinful.
Frankly, I still find it problematic even if you just find sex scenes pointless and boring instead of immoral. Too many authors believe erotic interactions are purely indulgent and “don’t move the plot forward,” which tells me exactly the kind of terrible sex they would write in the first place.
Sex is a natural part of (most) humans’ experiences, and there’s absolutely nothing shameful about including it on the page, whether euphemistically or enthusiastically. I don’t care what your personal, cultural, or religious beliefs are: don’t yuck anyone’s yum. It’s fiction—get over yourself.
To the litfic darlings: you’re not in Iowa anymore
But Alyssa, you say, those authors aren’t writing bestselling romances. Surely, the chart-topping books are written by folks who treat the genre with gravitas.
Not necessarily!
Unfortunately, any field with the potential to make bank is rife with outsiders trying to act like they’ve belonged all along. The biggest example of this in recent years is Curtis Sittenfeld’s revisionist history.
Here’s what she said about the genre in 2016 while promoting her retelling of Pride and Prejudice:
“I read a lot of romances but I reached a point where I recognized that most romances are badly written, which annoyed me.”
This year, Sittenfeld released Romantic Comedy, which literally leveraged the genre in its title even though its highest-ranking Amazon categories at the moment are “family life fiction,” “contemporary women’s fiction,” and “literary fiction”—not romance.
You can see why this is frustrating for diehard romance fans. Here you have MFA-touting elitists getting the red carpet rolled out for them in the form of NYT Editors’ Choice and Reese’s Book Club picks, all while positioning themselves as better than all the authors in the genre who came before them.
In romance, we call that having big “Not Like Other Girls” energy, and we’re not tolerating it anymore. If you aren’t going to lift up your fellow authors, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Give Romance a Little R-E-S-P-E-C-T
As always, I have more to say about what grinds my gears as a romance writer, reader, and advocate, so make sure you subscribe to receive my monthly rants and raves.
And even if you don’t read or write romance, please share your thoughts! Whether you’re an aspiring author or just a book lover, I’d love to hear what ticks you off about your favorite genre. Drop your two cents in the comments!